


Captured Photographs

by AngeNoir



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Not Related, F/M, Intimacy, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 19:34:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4577178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Okay, seriously, Killi (short for Killian) didn't <em>mean</em> to stalk her - rather, them. It was more a by-product of the fact that yeah, he had a small crush on Tory, and so when she was around he noticed, and what she was doing was perfect for his photography assignment.</p><p>The second time was also an accident. Involving Tory and her boyfriend, but an accident nonetheless.</p><p>The third time, he was invited to join.</p><p>The fourth, to participate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Captured Photographs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HyperMint](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperMint/gifts).



> I really hope this works well! I loved the prompt, so I tried to make sure I did justice to it.

Killian first noticed them – not because he was _stalking_ Tory, though. He knew Tory because they were both in the art program at ME – she was a painter, and he a photographer. They had shared a few basic classes, plus one or two extra classes they needed to complete the credit requirements for their BFAs. Tory was a senior, though, already accepted into the prestigious art program all seniors went through if they wanted to graduate with that BFA instead of just a BA. Killi wasn’t quite sure he’d manage to make it – photography was slightly overlooked in the program. Sculpture was the big thing, followed by painting and graphic design. Photography trailed at the end, along with some of the lesser-known art fields.

He’d wondered, sometimes, if he could approach her, ask her for an opinion on how to get accepted into senior progress to create his portfolio, but, well…

He was an awkward, gangly kid with a tendency to put his foot in his mouth in social interactions. He took things a bit too literally sometimes, or made jokes of something other people just knew you shouldn’t joke about. Killi wasn’t very popular or social, but Tory…

Tory was graceful and elegant, an easy talker and extremely deliberate. Whenever she spoke up in class, it was to give a thoughtful, insightful comment, a new angle to take the discussion.

Killi was half in love with her, and had been trying to work up the courage to invite her to coffee after class sometime.

His current photography assignment was to identify intimacy and distance within the same photograph, and he’d been taking a few pictures around campus, trying to get a feel for it before setting up a shot. And, again, he wasn’t stalking her – he just knew that she often visited the local student-run café and that he might see her there, and perhaps he could offer to buy her some coffee, maybe a muffin.

He hadn’t expected to see someone else with her, though.

The guy with her wasn’t taller than her, but he was broad of shoulder and barrel-chested. Muscular, a nicely trimmed beard and mustache, shoulder-length blond hair practically glowing in the afternoon light. Without thinking, really, Killi turned his lens towards the meeting couple and snapped a few photographs quickly before turning away.

He knew he hadn’t really had a chance, but he didn’t need to torture himself. Besides, he hadn’t even gotten the courage up to speak to her – it was his own fault in that respect. In any case, the tableau was… touching. Hands reaching towards each other, but Tory wasn’t standing, was waiting for the guy to approach. Some level of intimacy, but also distance.

Later, going through the many different shots he’d taken, from staged to candid, that one was the best.

***

“That’s Tory and me, isn’t it?”

Killi let out a small yelp and whipped around, nearly dropping the camera he’d checked out of the art library. He _did_ drop his notebooks and papers.

The guy that was the subject of Killi’s photograph – or, at least, one of the two subjects – was standing in front of him, head tilted curiously. This close, Killi didn’t just see the blond hair pulled back in a messy bun and the thick muscles – he could see the bright blue eyes, the inviting smile, the hint of tattoos on the guy’s upper arms and back through the white t-shirt. He could see the small scars on the guy’s knuckles, the grease in the fingernails.

Killi swallowed.

“That photograph, in the exhibit. That’s Tory and me, right?” The guy grinned and bent down to help Killi stack the papers. “I saw it yesterday. It was pretty cool.”

“Um,” Killi said, taking the papers from the guy’s hands automatically.

“My name’s Philip. But my friends call me Phil. Nice meeting you!”

Killi watched the guy amble away and soundly cursed himself for not saying anything at all. He was awkward around people, yeah, but normally not this speechless!

Grumbling to himself, he continued walking to his stats class. Maybe numbers would drown out the thoughts bouncing around in his head at the moment.

***

The thing about their campus was that it was pretty big. Not that there were, like, over 5,000 people in one graduating class, but that the campus was spread over a wide area. The campus itself prized itself on its environmental program, and there were a lot of people studying ecosystems and biology to learn more about the impact people have on the environment. It was the perfect place for artists, too – bohemian enough that it was sufficiently inspiring, but chic enough that wifi was available in (mostly) every corner of campus and there were benches and shaded areas to sit, not just expanses of nature that you had to hike through to get to your next class.

Killi was in one of those places – he had linear art and honestly, he hated anything he couldn’t use his camera for – trying to get a landscape picture down for his second-to-last project of the year when he realized that across the field, in a shaded area near the tiny stream, Phil and Tory were lying on the ground. He definitely caught a glimpse of Phil’s hair, recognized the shape of Tory’s body and back of her head. Curious – she had the same linear art class, something about putting off the basic class to her last year – he squinted, trying to figure out if she was also trying to complete her last project.

Then he realized that Tory’s head was arched back, that Phil’s hair was visible solely because his head was in her lap. Even then, it took him a couple of minutes before he really could make sense of what they were doing, partly because yeah, he was that innocent, and partly because he just didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Phil giving Tory head here? In the middle of a field?

But he definitely could see that Tory’s skirt was rucked up to her waist – he tried to avert his eyes from her long, lean legs splayed out, the trembling of her arms bracing her body from behind as she leaned back, chest heaving, but he was a weaker man than he hoped – and Phil would come up to kiss her, then drop back down, hands sliding underneath her skirt, face disappearing from view.

He watched, awed and mesmerized, as Tory’s mouth rounded and her shoulders let out a hard shudder, as Phil’s hands came up to gently lean Tory down, as he stretched over her to kiss her, one hand moving up and down her belly, her sides. He watched as her hands fumbled at Phil’s waist until one slipped underneath, and then it was Phil who was dropping his head down, mouth circling as the lines of his body shook. Then his hips were pumping, thrusting, and Killi wet his lips as Phil gritted his teeth and his entire body tightened.

Killi had only ever seen himself when he had an orgasm, not anyone else. But he’d bet Phil had just had one.

Realizing that he wasn’t just noticing Tory with her boyfriend anymore, that this was straight-out voyeurism, he flushed a bright red and boxed up his supplies as quickly as possible before making his escape.

And if, in the shower later that night, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind, their innocence and yet deliciously naughty activities, their intimacy and the way the sun made Phil’s hair glow, brought out the milky glow of Tory’s skin and highlighted the darkness of her hair, well. Feeling guilty as hell, he palmed his erection and brought himself off in record time.

***

After that, it felt like he saw them _all the time_ , and he felt guilty for intruding and yet couldn’t get out of his head how they had arched their necks, they’d touched one another intimately. How they’d cared for each other and touched one another and then he’d have to slide something over his lap and try to keep anyone from noticing the red in his cheeks.

And that was pretty much his life until his old clunker decided to finally give up the ghost. He kicked the tire, growling under his breath as he ran fingers through his hair. His hair tie had snapped a while ago, so it was stuck to the back of his neck, limp and itchy. He had already missed his morning class and it looks like he was going to miss his next two, as well.

“Shit,” he sighed, pulling out his cellphone. He didn’t have the money to get it fixed, it wasn’t like he could buy or even rent a new car, and this month was just a total wash.

After typing out a quick email – and attaching a picture of his smoking car – to his professors, he slumped on the side of the road and googled the closest mechanic shop. His phone brought up the number, and he copied it into his phone and clicked call.

“Hi, this is Royal Mechanic, Orin speaking. How may I help you?”

“Yeah,” Killi said hesitantly. “Um, I don’t have a lot of options, but you guys are the closest mechanics and my car’s finally died so… how much does it cost to tow it to, like, an empty lot or something?”

“Well, our base rate is forty-nine dollars, and after the first eight miles it’s three dollars a mile.”

Killi let out a huff of air and then a weak laugh. “It’s not like I have much of a choice. How soon can you send someone out?”

“Ah… let’s see, I think it’s Philly who’s out in the truck right now. I’ll let him know to head over to you. Your position?”

Killi gave the approximation of his position and watched the other cars drive past. When a tow truck pulled in front and put on its brake lights, Killi looked up and then cursed his luck.

Phil hopped out of the cab and raised an eyebrow. “Hey – you’re that artist kid. From Tory’s class. You do…”

“Photography,” Killi mumbled.

“Yeah, that’s it. Camera stuff. Pretty awesome material. Life can suck, huh?”

“It’s… been a sucky month.” Year, really, but no one needed to get into that right now. Instead, Killi took in a deep breath and said, “But thanks, for coming.”

Phil lifted a shoulder. “Sometimes life kicks you in the teeth and you end up getting something better out of it. You wanna sit in the cab, get some air conditioning? How long have you been out here?”

“Ahh…” Killi glanced at his phone. “No more than thirty-five minutes. You’re good.” Walking over to the cab of the tow truck, he turned back to ask if Phil needed help and nearly swallowed his tongue, looking at Phil’s bunched forearms.

Clearing his throat, he climbed into the truck’s cab and blissfully soaked in the cool air conditioning.

It was only about five to ten minutes later before Phil was hopping in next to him, t-shirt sweaty and jeans grease-stained and torn. “Scorcher today, huh? Sorry about that. I wasn’t exactly close when Orin called me over.”

Killi shrugged and looked down at his knees. “I’m good. Thanks, again.”

“So, where do you want this to be towed?”

With a sigh, Killi shrugged. “Might as well drag it to my apartment. There’s no way I can get to class today anyway. I’ll need to figure out bus schedules and get the notes from someone—”

“You’re in Tory’s class, right? I can tell her about what happened, make sure you get them,” Phil offered.

The frustrating thing, of course, was not that Tory should have “been Killi’s” but that Phil was just too damn nice of a person to be upset that Tory picked him. Plus, the healthy dose of realism that Killi hadn’t even really done anything except stare hopefully at Tory throughout the class kept Killi from acting jealous at all, just resigned. “Yeah, man. That’d be awesome.”

The rest of the ride was almost intensely silent, and Killi didn’t have the energy to even care, really. He was on his (almost dying) phone, trying to figure out bus schedules that would get him to college and get him to work when the truck came to a stop and Killi looked around. “We don’t have assigned parking spots,” he said. “Anywhere is fine, really.”

“Hey – why don’t you come hang out with Tory and me Friday night?”

The offer was random, out of the blue, and Killi turned incredulously to Phil – who was, incredibly, blushing. “Um—” Killi began, and then stuttered to a stop.

“It’s – we go and hang out at the student bar. There’s a bunch of stand-up comedians and stuff, and they’re not that great, I’m not gonna lie. But we get drunk and laugh our asses off. Tory talks a bit about you. Says she admires your work.”

There was a lot of information dumped on Killi, and he wasn’t that great at processing things, but before he could really think about it he was bobbing his head like a chicken. “Yeah – that’d be pretty cool!” he said, smiling. “Thanks!”

“Don’t worry about it, man, we’d both love to hang out with you. If you wanna bring someone you can, it’s not like this is exclusive thing, you know, I don’t want to put you on the spot—”

“I – I don’t have anyone to bring,” Killi said awkwardly.

Phil rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry, man. I babble a bit when I’m nervous. It’s just – Tory’s been trying to find a way to ask you to hang out for a while, and I mean. I’m pretty excited.”

Killi had – never actually considered that someone might have been watching _him_ on campus, and it both made him a little uncomfortable – he wasn’t that interesting, but he was still private, and yes he knew that sounded hypocritical but honestly he’d never gone out of his way to stalk anyone at all – and kinda flattered that someone had actually noticed he existed. “I mean – I’ve been – well, I’d love to. What time?”

“Oh, oh yeah. Nine pm, cool?” Without really waiting for an answer, Phil hopped out of the truck and began to lower Killi’s dead car.

“Cool,” Killi murmured to himself.

***

Which is, of course, how he found himself walking to the bar, arguing to himself over whether he should show up early or late, or if they really wanted him to show up at all. It wasn’t until he got to the bar that he realized the walk, in the muggy heat, had made him more than a little bedraggled and sweaty, and that his hair – just pulled back into a pony-tail today – was stuck to his forehead and neck.

He probably shouldn’t even go, right? It was a joke, or just Phil playing a prank of some kind. It’d take too long to go back and grab deodorant anyway, he might as well just leave—

“Hey, Killian!”

At the sound of Tory’s voice, Killi lit up inside like a rocket and tried not to show it. Looking around, he saw Phil and Tory walking towards him. They looked – perfect, in a word, and he tried not to think about what he must look like.

But then Phil threw an arm around Killi’s shoulders and Tory smiled widely at him. “Ready to get wasted and make fun of the comedians?”

Killi blinked at Tory and then Phil. “Make fun of them?”

“I said we laugh our asses off, not that we were doing it because the _comedians_ were funny. They crash and burn so bad, man,” Phil laughed, rubbing Killi’s shoulder and then letting go to hold the door open for the two of them.

It was whirlwind-like, how Killi was at a table and ordered with a beer in his hand and Tory pressed tight on one side and Phil on the other, the two of them chatting about their day. Killi was content to listen, but after fifteen minutes or so he began commenting, interjecting, and it became easier and easier each time.

Around ten pm, the place was packed, and they were well and truly squished in their booth, their food more or less decimated, two beers drunk each and starting to lean on one another. Killi was giggling at Tory’s recounting of their class on Thursday, when Phil leaned forward and said, “Hey, hey! They’re starting, guys, they’re starting!”

Immediately, the bar grew quieter, everyone turning to the small stage where students were starting to announce the first comedian. And they were just as terrible as Phil promised – oh, there were probably a few really good ones in there, but there were some really, _really_ terrible ones. Killi couldn’t stop laughing, to the point of just gaping silently, unable to do anything but gasp as he tried not to piss himself.

At midnight, everyone stumbled and pushed their way out of the bar, Killi leaning more on Tory and Phil trying to prove he could walk backwards and failing miserably. After the fifth time of falling, Killi shook his head. “Phil, man, you’re just too cute, you know that?”

“Really?” Phil said, overly enthusiastic and loud, pulling so hard on Killi’s offered hand that Killi nearly fell down too. “Man, I think you’re smoking. Don’t you think he’s smoking, Tory?”

Tory draped herself over Killi’s back and groaned, “Guys, I’m really dizzy. You wanna crash at my place?”

That gave Killi pause, because he knew something was wrong with this, with them finding him hot and him going back to their place, but he was exhausted from the week, riding the high of the night, and honestly too drunk off his ass to put together the problem. As it was, Phil – now standing – slapped a hand on Tory’s shoulder. “Great idea, Tory! Hey, hey Kil, Killian, you wanna? She’s got like, the softest couch I swear. The _softest_.”

***

Killi blinked open eyes and immediately regretted it. He didn’t have a really bad hangover – he definitely didn’t need to rush for the bathroom, though he was queasy – but the light was stabbing his eyes directly in the face. Groaning, he tried to shift and found that he couldn’t.

Tentatively, he cracked open his eyelids, one hand clumsily coming up to shade his eyes from the offending light, and he blinked down at a tangled mess of blond hair pressed against his abdomen. Someone was… sleeping on his stomach. This was a really soft bed. No, couch – not bed. Who – who did he know well enough to crash on their couch? What the hell…?

Dim recollections from last night began to trickle in: leaning on Phil, who was trying to hold up Tory, tripping into the elevator and falling on his ass, watching Tory and Phil kiss in the elevator, falling on a couch and having someone else mumble something in his ear.

He flushed bright red.

“I see you’re awake.”

The words were soft, obviously trying not to wake Phil, and Killi tilted his head to see Tory there, looking at him seriously. Granted, her hair was limp and there were bags under her eyes, but she looked far more put together after last night than she should be.

“So last night – I remember it better than you do, I bet, because if there’s one thing I know about you Killi, it’s that you’re ridiculously shy, but you had a good point about revisiting the topic when you were sober. And, hell, it’s Saturday. I don’t have class. Do you?”

“No…?” Killi responded just as quietly, dragging out the word into a question.

Tory nodded. “Well, then when Philly wakes up and stops crushing your bladder, we can revisit the topic.”

“I’m – sorry, what topic?” Killi asked, mouth suddenly very dry (and bladder suddenly very prominent, now that Tory brought his attention to it).

She looked at him steadily. “Phil might not have been as honest in his reason for inviting you – yeah, I like you a lot, I’d like to be friends – but we both think you’re hot, and we offered you the bed last night, with us in it. At least—” she paused, and blushed a little. “I think we did. That had been the plan, at least.”

“Okay, whoa – _what_?” Killi hissed.

“Yeah, okay. Last night we offered, and you said that no one should sleep with anyone while they were inebriated – yeah, you used that word, did you realize you get super articulate when you’re drunk? – and so Phil decided to be noble and sleep out here with you instead of in bed with me. Guess what _I_ get like when I’m drunk?” Her words became tart, even as her eyes were soft, teasing, and Killi was picking up too many mixed signals it was starting to become confusing. “ _I_ get horny, so I had to go to bed by myself and I’d really appreciate it if you could, now, sober, consider a threesome with me and my boyfriend, on a semi-permanent basis.”

Killi stared at her for a long moment and then croaked, “I need to piss really bad and if Phil doesn’t move I might just piss him.”

Tory sighed and reached over to roll Phil off Killi and onto the floor.

“Shit, Dale, I’mma fucking kill you!” Phil said, coming awake with a roar.

Tory flicked his forehead. “Killi needs to piss, you animal. You couldn’t cuddle me last night, you had to go and cuddle him?”

“Was being gentlemanly. Oh god. I’m gonna puke.”

Killi shot off the couch and into the bathroom before Phil could make it, because Phil could always throw up in a pot or a trashcan; Killi needed to piss, and he couldn’t do that anywhere except a toilet. He closed the doors on Phil’s curses and yanked down his pants to relieve his bladder.

When he came out, Tory and Phil were sitting on the couch, Tory rubbing Phil’s back as he clenched the trashcan to his chest. Phil looked up and glared. “Dick move,” he muttered.

“You were the one crushing my bladder,” Killi responded, and then winced and looked down. “Sorry.”

Tory sighed. “The reason we brought it up last night is because you’re shy, Killian, we get it. But we both want you in a relationship with us. And maybe we should have just said that straight out but…” Tory shrugged. “You’re this really aloof guy, you’re super cool, and your photography skills are off the charts. I know Professor Jemison wants to submit your stuff to the local gallery here, and the Norman Wells Gallery downtown.”

“How did you—?” Killi began, surprised.

“Tory’s putting herself down. She was willing to go up and talk to you, but she didn’t know if I’d be cool with it, so I was trying to find a way to approach you without making you walk away – we tried to find out your schedule, but Orin told us that was _too_ stalker-esque and he wasn’t helping us with it. So when I towed your car, it seemed the perfect time.”

“Okay, wait – this is _totally_ out of the blue!” Killi said, shocked into speech. “Like, okay, I can – no, I can’t really, but I guess theoretically I can see that you guys wanted to talk to me, but to – to invite me into – into what, a semi-whatever thing? How do you – you guys don’t know anything about me! I’m a sophomore here, you’re both older than me—”

“Like, by two years?” Tory said, confused. “Is that a problem?”

Killi gripped at his hair. “No – I mean, look, you haven’t _met_ me, you don’t know anything about me, how do you know you want _anything_ with me?”

Tory shrugged. “You – okay, this is going to sound shallow, but you’re hot, you know? You’re sweet, you’ve always got thoughtful things to say in class. Your critiques are some of the most helpful. You put in a lot of effort. I could go on, I mean, it’s not that hard—”

Killi jerked to Phil. “So maybe _she_ has something about me, but you don’t even go to this college! How do you know me?”

“Dude, you live next to my uncle and his lover. I crash at his place all the time. You’ve got two cats and an adorable puppy.”

Killi blinked at Phil a long moment and then sat down hard on the coffee table, staring at his knees, trying to rearrange his worldview to one where people had seen him and had talked with each other and wanted to try for a threesome with him.

“Looks like we broke his brain, babe,” Phil said, and Killi looked up to scowl at him.

“If this is inappropriate, well, I’m sorry,” Tory said, and Killi turned to look at her. She was blushing, and her fingers were nervously worrying at the hem of her sleeping shorts. “I just – we really liked you, and we would’ve really liked to be in a relationship with you, too, but if that’s inappropriate, well, we’d still like to try and be your friends. If you want.”

Killi leaned back and heard the table creak ominously. Tory was nervous, for the first time he’d ever seen her act like that, and Phil was still noticeably green around the edges, but he had been admiring the both of them, imagining a relationship with Tory since the start of their shared class, had seen them basically have sex without meaning to. “I didn’t say no,” he said reflexively.

Tory’s head jerked up and she stared at him in shock, even as Phil grinned widely – and then his face changed and he was bent over, heaving into the trashcan again.

“Let’s… revisit the topic when we’ve all had something to eat?” Killi asked tentatively.

***

Killi had managed to pull out eggs and cheese from the fridge and was in the process of making a pretty plain cheesy omelet when Tory and Phil came into the kitchen, Tory dressed in a tank and shorts, instead of her oversized sleeping shirt and shorts, and Phil wearing nothing but sweatpants – and looking considerably more wet and less green.

Killi averted his eyes and turned back to the food cooking on the stove.

“So – you’re not averse to this, then?” Phil asked, and Killi heard him throw himself into a chair. “That’s what I heard, while I was in the middle of trying to keep my stomach from tying itself into knots. Is that what you got, Tory?”

She came up next to Killi to pull cups out of the cabinet above his head, and he realized with a start he was about two inches taller than her. “Do you want – help?” he offered.

“I got it. You just get that on plates; that looks really good. You want OJ? Or something else?”

“Ah – water, really, is fine,” he said, flipping it over one last time to make sure it was evenly cooked and then dividing the mess into three shares.

Phil took his plate eagerly and smiled up at him. “Thanks, Killian.”

“Killi,” Killi corrected, and then shrugged awkwardly. “I – my nickname is Killi. Killian’s my dad.”

“Killi, then,” Tory said, sitting down and pushing out one of the two chairs left. “Sit. Let’s hash this out. I mean, clearly you want to hash this out – we were fine with just winging it.”

Killi hunched his shoulders a little but ventured to say, “We need some kind of ground rules for this thing, right? Like – if I’m not just – if this isn’t just to spice up whatever it is you have, then there’s got to be rules. Relationship rules.”

“I call left side of the bed!” Phil said immediately.

Tory and Killi shot him a withering look, before Tory turned to prop her head up on her chin. “Okay. Rule number one – we stay inclusive as much as possible. I don’t want to lose Phil to you, you got me?”

Killi stared at her in shock for a moment before Phil grunted, “Dunno, Tory, when you fuck me with that strap-on it’s just not the same as a real cock. He might outshine you there.”

“Beyond that rule,” Tory said loudly over Phil’s words, “I can’t think of anything else we really need to hammer down. Because we’ll learn what we like and what we don’t soon enough. We’ll figure it out as we go. But I agree that if we want this relationship to work, it’s gotta be all three of us or nothing.”

Slowly, Killi nodded.

“Great! Then let’s set a triple date for, well. Our art project’s due Tuesday, and I’ve got an exam on Wednesday. Thursday? We’ll go out pizza and bowling. Come back here and see what happens.”

Phil leaned forward, propping his chin on Killi’s shoulder. “She’s the planner. I’m just along for the ride.”

Killi looked between the two of them and gave up. This would either turn out really great or really bad. “Sure. Next Thursday. Do you wanna head to Mainstreet? Their pizza’s not great but it’s quieter.”

“Sure. Seven?”

Killi nodded and awkwardly went home, trying to figure out how his life had gotten so surreal.

***

“There’s no way anyone’s that good at bowling,” Killi argued.

Tory laughed, unlocking the front door. “Phil’s hand-eye coordination is insane. _I_ took archery all throughout high school and took him to the field one time. He hit the target each time, first time out.”

Surprised, Killi walked in and took his jacket off to hang it off the back of the couch. “Seriously? I took archery throughout middle and high! I love the sport!”

They were in the middle of discussing the merits of the different kinds of bows when Phil let himself into the apartment – he’d gone to park the car and take out the trash – and stopped, raising an eyebrow at the two of them. “Do I have to worry about Killi stealing _you_ , Tory?” he asked, teasingly.

“Now that we’re all here – you wanna try this out? In the mood for it?” Tory said.

Killi blinked. “That’s – incredibly blunt.”

“Removes all confusion. Honestly, ever since you got super competitive and tried to take Philly out in our competition I was ready to climb you like a tree but you know,” Tory trailed off, cheeks red, and she shrugged. “Just.”

“How about this,” Phil countered. “We sit here on the couch and we make out, and Killi tells us when he wants to move it to the bedroom.”

Okay, Killi was nineteen. He only had so much willpower before his dick took over and made his decisions for him. “Sure,” he said in a strangled voice. “Sounds great.”

Immediately, Tory leaned forward, moving to straddle his waist, and kissed him, her lips dragging over his. He instantly wished he’d had time to shave; stubble painted his lips and chin. But he kissed back enthusiastically, hands coming up to rest at her waist, even as the couch dipped next to him and one of Phil’s hands rested on his chest, radiating heat. When Tory pulled back, panting, Phil leaned forward and kissed. For some reason, Killi thought dazedly, Phil kissed a lot sweeter than Tory. Tory was direct and forthright, ready to take on anyone or anything, and Phil was considerably more laid-back, more chill, and his thumb rubbed circles over Killi’s chest as Tory tilted her head, trailing kisses down Killi’s neck to suck a hickey against his collarbone.

It was the most potent drug Killi could ever know, and he found himself unsure where to put his hands, moving from sliding them up under Tory’s shirt to tangling them in Phil’s hair, then back to Tory’s shoulders and arms, then one cupping Tory’s ass while the other buried in Phil’s hair. At some point, he became aware that they were kissing each other and him, his head thrown back against the couch as he twitched his hips and felt his zipper press hard into his dick. “Bed – bedroom,” he managed to gasp out. “I wanna – I wanna try. If you guys want.”

Tory was up like a jack-in-the-box, her nipples hard against her shirt – at some point, Killi remembered Phil undoing the bra strap under her shirt and he watched them fall against the material of her blouse – and hair tangled, lips reddened and eyes blown. “You two are going to fuck me unconscious tonight,” she declared, even as Phil stood up and dragged Killi up as well.

Killi swallowed hard, aware that his belt and zipper were undone and his button-up shirt was entirely unbuttoned, hanging against his skin and tickling. Phil was a little worse off (or better, depending how you looked at it) – his shirt was entirely gone, and his hair floated away from his face like a golden halo. He had a hickey on his shoulder that Killi knew was from him, and two hickeys developing on his throat that had come from Tory, and he looked beautiful.

Killi followed them into the bedroom where Tory had already flung her shirt and bra onto a chair and was wiggling out of her skinny jeans. Phil groaned a little, palming his erection, and then undid his zipper and shoved boxers and jeans down his legs, kicking off his boots as he did so.

Following suit, Killi toed off his sneakers and undressed, a little self-conscious – he was definitely weedier than Phil, and very hairy compared to Phil, whose hair was so fine Killi had been fascinated with it on the couch, rubbing his cheek against Phil’s chest.

“C’mon, Killi, you’re holding up the proceedings!” Tory demanded, and that startled a bark of laughter out of Killi’s throat. Shoving his khakis and briefs off, he dumped them on top of his shoes and went over to the bed where Tory was splayed out like a queen awaiting her attendants.

“I kinda – I really wanna go down on you,” Killi said in a rush, biting his lip.

Tory stared at him a moment and Phil began laughing, throwing an arm around Killi’s shoulders (Killi tried not to think of all that naked flesh pressed against him in a long line). “Speechless in bed. I didn’t know that could even happen to Tory! How about this – you eat her out and I stretch _you_ out? I’ve been dying to get in that ass of yours since I saw you bend over to pull that gray cat out of the box in front of the dumpster.”

Killi’s cheeks flushed, but he had no problems with that, so all he did was nod and move to settle between Tory’s legs. She was mostly trimmed, the black hair starting to grow out and curl a bit, and he nuzzled between her legs to find her already clenching on air, soaking wet. She let out a gasp and one hand buried in his hair, fisted in it, and the sparks of that traveled down his spine and made him arch his ass up, ready for Phil.

“Shit,” Phil murmured, running a thumb over Killi’s hole. “Goddamn.”

“Phil oh my god, Killi, Killi get a finger in there, I need _something_ – Philly, god, his tongue, oh god—” Tory babbled, but then one of Phil’s fingers breached Killi’s ass and Killi grunted, nose forced deep into Tory’s folds, and he lost his ability to follow her words as his world focused on the salty-tangy taste of her and her soft, soft flesh giving underneath his fingers, and the spread of fingers in his ass, probing deep and every so often brushing against his prostrate, sending lightning bolts up to his brain.

Then the hand in his hair was tugging, pulling him away, and Killi came back to Tory babbling, “—on, get that condom _on_ , oh motherfucker I need you in me right now, come _on_ , Phil!”

With shaking fingers, Killi located the condom she had been shoving at him and fought with the package, even as Phil came back with another condom, rolling it on his dick. “Next time, your tongue’s gonna be on _me_ and you’re gonna be in _my_ ass, we clear?” he said, and his chest was heaving, a dull red flush down his chest arrowing towards the thick dick that curled up to his navel, eyes blown wide that blue was just a faint ring around dilated pupils.

 _Finally_ , Killi had the condom packet open and he was rolling it over his cock and lining himself up, mouthing at Tory’s breasts and nipples as she clawed at his hips, trying to force him to enter her _right away, Killi, you motherfucking piece of shit right now!_

Then Phil came up behind him and breathed in his ear, “I’m gonna fuck you into her. That sound good to you?”

Killi whimpered at the image, and he was sure at some point he was gasping yes, yes, _yes yes yes yes_ until Phil’s cock shoved in and Killi fell forward, hips moving with Phil’s to ram home in Tory’s sopping cunt. She let out a wail and thrust her hips back, even as Phil dragged out. The rhythm wasn’t that great, and it took them a while, but soon enough Tory was screaming out her orgasm against Killi’s throat, hands gripping at Killi’s hips, and then Killi was tipping over the edge as her pussy fluttered over his dick with the aftershocks. He slumped down on top of her, and that’s when he realized Phil must have been holding back, because Phil tilted his hips up and began _pounding_ Killi, making Killi writhe and gasp, until Phil stiffened and slammed home one more time.

“So bruised,” Killi mumbled.

“Worth it, though,” Tory slurred.

Phil flopped down, and managed to aim for the side, dragging Killi with him so it ended up Killi sandwiched between Phil and Tory. They were sticky and the room stunk of sex, and it would be too hot when Killi woke up. All Killi really had the energy to do, though, was – wincing – pull off the condom of his dick, and then the one off Phil, and tie them before throwing them as best he could towards the trashcan.

“We’re gonna regret this,” Killi grunted.

“Hmm? What?” Phil asked. “Why?”

“’Cause were gross. And sticky. And I think Tory pulled me into the wet spot,” Killi yawned.

“Oh,” Phil said, and yawned as well. “Well, I’m not regretting a single damn thing.”

And yeah, Killi could get behind that.


End file.
